


Straight Martinis

by dreamfleet, mezmerize



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: AkuRoku Day, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, axel in ties, fluffy sex, roxas in cute waiter shirts, straight up porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:17:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/924012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamfleet/pseuds/dreamfleet, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mezmerize/pseuds/mezmerize
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The obvious choice. (Or, cocktail parties are boring and hot waiters are fantastic distractions.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Straight Martinis

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cocktail](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/25974) by Nijuuni. 



The waiter catches Axel’s eye from across the room barely ten minutes after he’s arrived at the dull, repetitive cocktail party. His tie is cinched tight around his throat. It feels tighter whenever he sees the man. He should be networking. That’s why he’s here: to get connections for his mother, get funders, get ways to quit his shitty but highly lucrative job at the city’s top law firm (which his mother is a partner in, go figure). But the high-class benefactors become less and less interesting as he has one, two, three drinks. He hasn’t been eating enough if it only takes three drinks to get him to the point where he’s eye-stalking the waiter, drifting on the other side of the room, but always within eyeshot of him.

He’s beautiful. That’s what Axel had noticed first. Perfectly tanned skin, soft, touchable blonde hair, and those eyes. His eyes. Axel has only caught glimpses, but they’re the most vibrant blue-- he hopes that they’re not contacts, but if they were he wouldn’t really care. Everyone has something fake. He has his tattoos, his best friend has her hair, maybe the gorgeous waiter has his amazing, Hawaiian-ocean-at-perfect-sunset blue eyes.

The waiter is probably the last person who can get him a new job, but having that connection can’t hurt, can it? Maybe he just moonlights as a waiter, but is really a high powered businessman who just happens to enjoy serving drinks. Maybe he’s an aspiring artist who needs the cash but whose art will change Axel’s life. And maybe he’s just a waiter who happens to be the most beautiful man Axel has ever seen.

The clock strikes eleven, and Axel finishes off drink number four-- never a good idea at a party like this. Someone’s talking to him, he thinks, even though they haven’t taken a breath for air in over a minute, but he’s not paying attention. Nodding, he mutters something under his breath and sets his glass precariously on the nearest horizontal surface. His whole being is focused on the waiter. His doubts (maybe he’s straight, maybe he’s boring, maybe he likes to drown puppies for fun) have fled and now all he can think about is talking to him, which is wholly inappropriate at a party like this. Axel is beyond caring.

Striding across the room, Axel weaves his way between drunken businesspeople closer to the waiter, putting on his best, sexiest smile when he gets close. He saunters the last few steps and snags a glass off of the waiter’s tray before he can even ask if Axel wants one. “Hey,” Axel murmurs, voice low, eyes fixed on vibrant blue.

The waiter blinks at him, lips parting silently, frozen in place. “Uh. Did you want something else?”

Axel laughs, his heart fluttering in his chest-- his voice is just as beautiful. He only wishes it weren’t so loud in here and he could hear him better. Hear just him. “Yeah, but probably not anything you could put on your tray.”

The waiter offers a quick flash of a smile, tilting his head. His tray swings to the side and the liquid sloshes almost over the edge but remains quivering in the glasses, shining wet in the low lights. “I have two whole kinds of drinks here. Take your pick.”

Raising the glass he’d taken, Axel smirks, leaning a little closer, “already did.” He’s struck then that he hadn’t actually thought through what he should say to the beautiful waiter if he did come over and talk to him. 

“Straight martini,” the waiter observes. “Good choice, sir.” He sneaks a quick look at Axel’s face and his lips quirk up. “Maybe a little obvious.”

Axel glances at his drink, raising his brows in surprise. “You know, it is.” He sets it back on the waiter’s tray, and picks up the other drink, inspecting it. “And call me Axel.”

“Axel,” the waiter repeats dutifully, dragging out his name soft and slow. “Are you really that tired of your colleagues? Resorting to talking to the guy serving you the alcohol?”

“Partially. There are only so many times that I can talk about my ambitions without wanting to gag myself with them. But,” he grins again, eyes on the waiter’s face, “partially because I haven’t been able to stop staring at you all night.”

The waiter’s brows shoot up as color swarms into his cheeks. He coughs quietly, tongue darting out to wet his lips and replies in a somewhat breathless voice, “Because I have alcohol, right?” 

“Clearly,” Axel murmurs, meeting the waiter’s eyes, and he finds himself caught again. He should say something else, he should flirt, ask the man his name, but his eyes-- they’re definitely real. No contacts look that perfect. The waiter blinks up at him again and, after hesitating, offers the tray.

“By all means.”

Without answering, Axel reaches up to touch his chin, tilting the waiter’s face up toward him. His thumb strokes the man’s jaw, and his heart is pounding in his chest, like it’s going to just out and wrap itself around the waiter like Axel wants to.

The waiter’s eyes go wider still. He swallows and takes a wavering half-step back, planting himself more firmly on the soft carpet. The tray half-between them is the only barrier.

Axel smiles, shifting a little closer. “There is... a little bit more that I want.”

The waiter sucks in a sharp breath. “What can I get you, Axel?”

“Your name,” Axel says softly, his fingers trailing up over the waiter’s lips before dropping back to his side.

“My name,” he echoes, hot blood rushing up into his ears and down his neck. “Uh-- it’s Roxas.”

“Roxas...” Axel says the name slowly, a smile creeping onto his lips. “I like it.”

Roxas swallows, eyes darting rapidly over Axel’s face. “Anything else?”

“Well that would be up to you,” Axel laughs breathily, leaning down a little closer to him, “‘cause you seem to be the only thing here I want.”

“I beat out fancy cocktails?” A shaky grin tugs at Roxas’ lips. He cocks his head as he swings the tray to the side, considering Axel a moment. “You’re so kind.”

“I do try,” Axel gives him a little mock-bow, raising his untouched glass at the same time. Roxas laughs, breaking his cool persona as a genuine smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. It lights up his face like his contrived, polite smiles hadn't before. Axel forgets that he's smiling too, caught in Roxas' beautiful eyes.

“I do have other rich important people to hand drinks to, you know.” Roxas doesn’t actually make any attempt to move away, though he gestures gracefully with the tray full of drinks. He doesn't spill a drop.

“They’ve all had enough, trust me. You’d be doing them a service,” Axel sets his glass back on the tray, his hand brushing Roxas’ arm. “How much longer are you here?”

“Until all your friends think they’ve had enough too,” Roxas drawls, raising an eyebrow.

“I doubt they’d miss you if you... slipped away for a little while,” Axel’s smile stretches into an insinuating grin, his hand sliding down Roxas’ arm to take the tray from his grip. Roxas’ eyes dart to the drinks and then back to Axel, wide and very very blue.

“Slipped away, huh?” He echoes dumbly, wetting suddenly-dry lips again. “Depends how long.”

“I’d say a half hour, but that wouldn’t be fair to you,” Axel chuckles, and he turns to place the tray on the nearest table, his other hand sliding down Roxas’ arm to keep him close.

Roxas shivers, keeping his eyes locked firmly on Axel’s. “Forty five minutes. Can’t keep the alcohol away too long.”

“Forty five is perfect,” Axel’s fingers play up Roxas’ arm, meeting his eyes again, still astounded by their incredible blue. Forgetting the tray, Roxas reaches to brush his hands over Axel’s hips, glancing around nervously at the people milling in various stages of drunkenness. Axel’s suit is soft enough to be silk. He swallows again, eyes dark. Smiling encouragingly, Axel takes hold of Roxas’ elbow, shifting to walk with him toward the exit of the ballroom. His heart is still thudding, and butterflies flutter in his stomach, but he feels like he’s walking on a cloud, the most beautiful waiter in the world--Roxas-- on his arm. They slip out the doors with little fanfare, everyone wrapped up too much in themselves to notice a waiter escaping with one of their colleagues. The hotel is giant, meant only for high-class functions and people. Chandeliers line even the hallways, spilling soft white light over plush red and gold. Roxas presses in a little closer to Axel’s side as they walk, fingers curling into the sleeve of his jacket.

When they reach the front desk, Axel pulls out his wallet and just taps his credit card on the counter. The receptionist gives them a smile and takes the card without a word, ringing Axel up for a room.

“Room 813. Enjoy your night,” she says pleasantly, handing him back the card and two room keys. Axel murmurs his thanks with a smirk, glancing down at Roxas. Roxas stares back up at him, lips parted soundlessly. He blinks, glances at the receptionist-- who only gives him another pleasant smile-- and looks back at Axel, nodding.

“Okay. So you can just... buy hotel rooms here.” He murmurs under his breath. “That’s cool.”

Axel laughs, sliding his hand down Roxas’ arm to tangle their fingers together. “Can’t you do that in most hotels?”

“Maybe _you_ can do that in most hotels,” Roxas mutters under his breath. Axel just grins and tugs him along to the elevator. Even the elevators have gilded, florid frames. Roxas reaches over to push the call button and the doors slide soundlessly open. At least there isn’t anyone waiting silently inside to press the buttons. “Which floor?”

“Eight,” when the doors slip shut, Axel presses him back against the wall, looking down at him for a long moment before he leans in, softly pressing their lips together. Roxas sucks in a quick breath, curling his hands into the soft fabric of Axel’s sleeve. Roxas tilts his head, moaning quietly into the heat of Axel’s mouth. Axel wastes no time, pressing in close, his body against Roxas, lips parting to taste the flavor of Roxas’ lips. The elevator shoots up and Roxas makes a low, startled sound, twining himself around Axel. Axel’s fingers are just plunging into Roxas’ hair when the door dings. He groans, stumbling backwards without letting go of Roxas or breaking the kiss. 

Roxas tumbles after him until Axel is half-against the opposite wall and Roxas can stretch up and kiss him harder, dragging his mouth open and wet along the smooth line of Axel’s jaw. “We have-- forty minutes now,” he gasps, “don’t waste it.”

“Fuck-- yes,” Axel gasps, grabbing for his hand again. He kisses him one more time before dragging him down the hallway until he finds their room. Fumbling with the key, he somehow manages to get the door open, turning to grin back at Roxas. “Forty minutes. We can do a lot in forty minutes.”

“I have a couple ideas,” Roxas breathes, reaching up to push Axel backwards into the room. He lets the door fall shut behind them and doesn’t stop pushing until Axel hits a wall. Axel laughs, his arms wrapping around Roxas, pulling him close as he leans back against the wall. His hands touch everywhere at once, lips dropping to Roxas’ neck, nipping and sucking his way down to his collar. Roxas bites down on a groan, his head dropping to the side under the slow heat from Axel’s mouth on him. He slides his own hands slowly down Axel’s chest, tracing over layers of fine warm fabric, undoing the buttons on Axel’s jacket as he goes. Finally he reaches the bottom and pushes his hands up under the jacket and the vest, pulling him close through the thin shirt. Axel bites down hard on his neck, grinning against his skin. His hands slide down to cup Roxas’ ass, pulling him even closer. 

“Can I--” Roxas starts, but trails off with a stuttering groan as Axel nips along his throat. Gasping, he shoves his hands down past the hem of Axel’s pants, gripping his ass to pull him off the wall. “Axel--”

“Beautiful,” Axel murmurs, lurching off the wall to fall against him, kissing him soundly, “you can do whatever the hell you want.”

Roxas groans again, scraping his nails up Axel’s spine under layers and layers of cloth. Licking at the seam of Axel’s lips, he pushes Axel into the wall again and holds him there to drag frantic kisses over the line of his jaw and down to the starched collar of his shirt. Axel’s tie is tight and stopping Roxas from going any further. With one heated look, Roxas drops to his knees and fumbles Axel’s belt and pants open, watching him the whole time. Axel’s breath catches, but then a slow grin spreads over his lips. He leans back lazily, his hand stretching out to comb through Roxas’ slicked back hair. Roxas closes his eyes, heat flooding his cheeks, but thumbs open Axel’s slacks and drags the zipper slowly down, loud in the thick silence. Axel’s cock is straining against tight, thin material. Roxas groans and pushes a messy kiss to the head through the fabric, breath washing damp and warm over him.

“Apparently I have good taste in cocktail waiters,” Axel says breathlessly, his fingers too light in Roxas’ hair, the rest of his body relaxed, leaning lazily back against the wall.

“You have fantastic taste,” Roxas gasps, leaving Axel’s pants around his thighs to trail fingers slowly up. He palms the base of Axel’s cock and groans again, dragging his tongue up the still-clothed shaft. Axel jerks, his hips thrusting up against Roxas’ lips. “Thirty-five minutes, Roxas.”

Roxas laughs breathily and tugs his underwear down in compliance, flicking his eyes up to Axel’s face. “Never had a timer before,” he murmurs and pushes a kiss to the head of Axel’s cock when it’s free. Roxas wraps one hand around the shaft, stroking slow as he opens his lips and takes Axel into his mouth. A heady whimper escapes Axel’s lips, his head falling back against the wall. “Shit.” Roxas laughs around him and slides his hand down to squeeze the base of his cock, swallowing around him so he can slide Axel further into his mouth, achingly hard in his own tight pants. Axel’s cock is heavy and slick on his tongue and he never takes his eyes of Axel’s own, sliding his mouth down onto his cock over and over again. Cursing under his breath, Axel’s hips thrust forward, his cock burying itself deeper in Roxas’ mouth. The four drinks coursing through his veins make it easy to give in, to not even care about the time (though it is an efficient way to get what he wants). Roxas’ grip suddenly tightens on his hips, his lips tighter around Axel’s cock. Axel’s eyes fall shut, head slamming back against the wall as he struggles to thrust forward. Roxas’ fingers trailing over his balls and thighs, Axel’s muscles twitching under his touch, his legs spread as far as his slacks will let him. His thrusts are shallower now, but he can’t stop them, lost in the wet, delirious heat of Roxas’ mouth. 

Roxas squeezes the base of his cock and groans again. Axel is heady and hot in his mouth and his jaw aches and he only pushes himself closer and sucks harder, reaching around to grip Axel’s ass, feeling the flex of muscle under his fingers.

“Shit shit shit,” Axel groans, fingers gripping tight in Roxas’ hair, and he jerks Roxas’ head back off of his cock. He sucks in quick, sharp breaths, trying to calm himself down, not wanting to come yet. They have another whole thirty minutes to themselves. Roxas gasps, lips spit-slick and swollen in the low light of the room. He stares up at Axel with dark eyes, panting and still so achingly hard.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Axel murmurs, leaning down to kiss him, hard and fast and deep, his hand smoothing through Roxas’ hair. Roxas groans breathless into his mouth, pulling himself up by his grip on Axel’s hips to kiss him more thoroughly. 

“How much-- time?” He gasps, barely breaking the kiss for a second before he’s biting Axel’s lips again.

“Half hour, if that,” Axel says hoarsely. “C’mon,” he tugs on Roxas’ hair again, trying to get him to his feet, “as much as I love the look of you on your knees, we have this beautiful bed for the night.”

“You have it for the night,” Roxas murmurs, letting himself be tugged completely to his feet. He pushes a kiss against Axel’s throat, pulling him by the hip toward the bed. “I have it for a half hour, so let’s enjoy it.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” chuckling, Axel’s hands slide down Roxas’ chest to tug at his belt, pulling it open in one smooth move. His lips latch onto Roxas’ throat again as he pushes him back onto the bed, his own knees landing on either side of Roxas’ hips. Roxas grins up at him, reaching to tangle his fingers in Axel’s hair as he tilts his head for Axel’s lips. He arches up, bending one knee to press up off the bed and grind against Axel’s cock heavy between his thighs. Axel bites at his lips, pushing his slacks open, hands sliding over his cock, hard and hot in his boxers. Smirking, he stroking his hand over Roxas’ cock, palming him to feel his shape. Roxas groans, bucking sharply into Axel’s hand. He tugs at his hair, scraping teeth against his jaw. 

“Axel--” he gasps and pushes up harder, shoving one leg between Axel’s to roll up against his cock. Axel grunts against his lips, shoving down Roxas’ pants and boxers. He drops back off the bed to help pull them off, eyes wracking up Roxas’ body, his mouth suddenly dry. “Fuck.”

Roxas flashes him a crooked grin as he pushes up onto his elbows, meeting Axel’s eyes when he reaches them. His cheeks are still flushed, and he can’t stop dragging his eyes over Axel’s shoulders and the long pale line of his neck. He sucks in a deep breath and reaches for Axel, shifting minutely on the covers. “You have stuff, right? Or is the hotel that fancy?”

“It might be, I have no idea,” Axel grins crookedly at him, fumbling to get his wallet back out of his pants, “but I’m always prepared, in case gorgeous guys like you happen to show up.”

“Be prepared,” Roxas mutters under his breath, lips quirking at his own stupid joke. His eyes land on Axel’s cock and trail up his chest, still covered by his jacket and his vest and his shirt. “You should get that jacket off.”

“Anything for you,” Axel winks at him, tugging a condom and a packet of lube out of his wallet. He tosses them toward Roxas, shrugging off his jacket so it’s pooled around his elbows. Letting it drop behind him, his hands slide up Roxas’ thighs, his cufflinks dragging against Roxas’ skin. Pressing a kiss to his hip, Axel drops to his knees on the floor, reaching out for the packet of lube. Roxas pushes it into his hand, watching him breathlessly as he slides down the bed, as close to Axel as he can get. Grinning up at him, Axel rips open the packet, coating his fingers with lube as he leans forward to lick a hot trail up Roxas’ cock. Pressing Roxas’ thighs apart, his fingers tease his hole for just a moment before pressing in, slow but steady.

Roxas groans loud, throwing his head back as Axel’s tongue slides over the head of his cock, distracting him from the slick fingers pressing inside. He rocks down against them, though, spreading his legs wider around Axel’s hand with an impatient moan. “Don’t go slow,” he pants with fingers curled tightly in the covers, reaching over to push one into Axel’s hair and pull it from its now-loose ponytail. Red hair spills over his shoulders and falls forward to tickle Roxas’ thighs as Axel kisses down his shaft. Axel thrusts another two fingers into Roxas, moving them in and out steadily as his lips and tongue work around his cock.

Roxas rocks hard against Axel’s fingers, cock red and leaking with nothing but Axel’s lips sliding over him. “Fuck--” He bites out, arching up off the bed. “Axel--”

Axel chuckles against his cock, murmuring, “twenty-five minutes, beautiful,” before wrapping his lips around him, working his tongue around the head. Roxas only moans in response, pushing himself into Axel’s mouth with what little leverage he has. Axel’s cufflinks scrape at the skin of Roxas’ thigh; he trembles and moans under Axel’s mouth, rolling his hips faster and faster onto Axel’s fingers until there are four inside him and he’s panting and flushed and desperate, tugging hard at Axel’s hair.

“Axel--!”

Grinning wickedly, Axel sucks harder for a long moment, thrusting his fingers deeper. Roxas writhes under him, fingers jerking harder in his hair. Laughing around his cock, Axel pulls off to bite at his thigh, his fingers sliding out of him. He leans up over him to snatch the condom from Roxas’ fingers. Meeting his eyes, Axel rips it open with his teeth, grinning when he can hear Roxas’ breath catch. The way Roxas looked earlier, so slick and put together, was beautiful, but now he’s the only thing Axel can pay attention to. The way he breathes, the way he moves, the low moans that slip from his lips. It’s almost too much, but when Roxas leans up to kiss him, Axel can’t help a soft whimper, hand unsteady as he rolls the condom onto his cock. Roxas reaches down to wrap his hand around Axel’s, dragging a thumb over the head of his cock. He wraps one leg around Axel’s calf, dragging him up the bed and closer so Roxas can pull him down into a kiss, one hand sliding back into his hair. Axel curls his tongue into Roxas’ mouth, almost forgetting to slick his cock with the rest of the lube-- they only have twenty minutes, after all. He kisses Roxas for what feels like forever, until he shudders with the need for friction, for heat, for the beautiful body spread out under him on the bed. Breaking the kiss, Axel slides his hands down Roxas’ thighs, drawing them up around his hips, and he meets his eyes with a small smile. Roxas flashes a smile back, squeezing Axel’s hips with his legs to drag him closer until the head of his cock slides along the crack of his ass slick with lube.

“Quit stalling,” he orders with a punctuated roll of his hips, grinning. 

“I’m not stalling,” Axel shakes his head, positioning his cock, but he pauses for just a moment. “You...” he chuckles, the head of his cock pressed against his ass, then shakes his head, kissing Roxas deeply as he thrusts into him in one smooth move. 

“What-- what about me,” Roxas gasps into his mouth, chasing Axel’s tongue with his, curling past his lips as Axel slides fully inside him and settles, waiting a little. Roxas is glad for it, but after only a few seconds he rolls his hips and forces Axel’s cock deeper, groaning. Axel bites at his lips, hands settling on his hips to help pull all the way out, and then thrust hard back into him, Roxas’ hips lifted off the edge of the bed. He groans, thrusting again, and again, Roxas’ lower lip trapped between his teeth. Roxas moans low against his lips, ankles locked tight behind Axel’s back as he rolls his hips to meet him as best he can. Axel’s thrusts shove him back onto the bed, into the pillows and the headboard rocking but Roxas only wrapping himself more completely around Axel. Axel’s fingers wrap loosely around his cock, stroking him erratically with his thrusts. His hips thrust forward with more and more strength, burying him deeper inside of Roxas as his lips trail down Roxas’ neck, biting at his skin.

Roxas arches up as far as he can, reaching up to clutch at the covers above his head, crying something like Axel’s name, choked-off in the dim light. Pained, desperate pleasure floods through Axel and he groans against Roxas’ neck, his thrusts faster, harder, deeper. Gasping sharply, Roxas slams his head back into the bed, just barely keeping up with Axel slamming into him over and over. His legs tremble, lock tighter around Axel’s hips as he rocks to meet him, curses spilling fluid and breathless from his lips.

“Fuck Fuck-- Roxas,” Axel moans, thrusting deep inside of him one more time before he goes still, his body shuddering with release, his hand twitching around Roxas’ cock. Groaning, rocking up in desperate short jerks onto Axel’s cock, Roxas follows him a few seconds later with a hoarse shout of Axel’s name, hands digging white-knuckled into the covers above his head as he arches up completely off the bed beneath, come splattering on his stomach and his shirt.

They lay there for a few moments, only the sound of their hurried breath and pounding hearts filling up the sudden silence. Smiling against Roxas’ skin, Axel presses a soft kiss to his neck, then one to his lips, and another, and another until he’s not stopping, lips pressing against Roxas’ with a lazy passion, like a smoldering flame. Roxas murmurs something wordless, tilting his head to drag his lips over Axel’s, shifting underneath him just enough to slide his legs down as he catches his breath.

“Damn.”

Axel chuckles, resting his forehead on Roxas’ shoulder, “again, took the word right outta my mouth.” He sighs, enjoying just staying there, and he shifts enough to pull out of him, falling to the side to lie next to Roxas. His fingers trail over Roxas’ cheek, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Got some other stuff out’f your mouth too,” Roxas laughs, barely turning his face to brush his lips over Axel’s fingertips. Their noses bump together and Roxas laughs again and pushes past Axel’s fingers to kiss him. “D’we have some time?”

“I have no idea anymore,” Axel kisses him again, feeling an odd giddiness squirming its way past the hazy laziness of afterglow. 

“Don’t you have,” Roxas murmurs through kisses, “some kind of fancy,” he settles a little closer, throwing an arm over Axel’s waist, “rich people watch? Or something?”

“Watches are overrated,” he snorts, and pushes his hips off the bed to get at his cellphone in his back pocket. “But we have... ten minutes. Ten whole minutes,” he laughs, nosing against Roxas’ cheek to kiss him softly.

“You could do a lot in ten minutes,” Roxas muses, making no attempt at all to move away from Axel. His fingers trace soft trails up Axel’s spine over the soft fabric of his shirt and his vest.

“Yeah, you could...” Axel grins, fingers sliding back into Roxas’ hair. Roxas kisses him again in response, stretching lazily along his body.

“Or you could stay like this for ten minutes.”

They do stay as long as they can, wrapped around each other and catching their breath, until finally Roxas has to untangle himself and find his pants. His shirt is beyond wearing, so he has to steal Axel’s vest and tie. Axel helps him tuck the vest into his pants, and Roxas’ cheeks burn scarlet as Axel pulls open the door. Roxas shuts his eyes against the bright light from the hallway, pooling in a yellow rectangle on the floor, and leaves only after Axel does, watching the strong lines of his shoulders, the dark mark on his neck.

He’s mostly silent the whole way back, focusing on keeping his steps even and ignoring the twinging pain up his spine.

As they’re just about to enter the lobby again, Axel’s fingers twine through Roxas’, pulling him to a halt. Roxas blinks up at him, hair mussed and sticking up everywhere, cheeks red and lips kiss-swollen. His shoulders are bare in Axel’s vest, and the red tie hangs too low around his neck. Axel runs his fingers through Roxas’ hair, carefully putting it back into place. His eyes are on Roxas’ as he steps forward so their bodies are almost touching, and his hand runs down Roxas’ back, landing on his hip as Axel kisses him, soft and sweet.

“That’s not gonna make it any less obvious,” Roxas murmurs, tilting his head to the side with a smile pulling at his lips. He leans into Axel’s body, briefly pressing the flat of his palm against Axel’s back. “If I get fired, I’m blaming you.”

“I’ll take that responsibility,” Axel chuckles, kissing him again before he pulls back. “But I find it hard to believe that you wouldn’t be able to get another job, looking like you do.”

Roxas laughs and reaches up, pushing fingers through his slicked-back hair in one last attempt to make it lie flat. “That seems kinda cheap, don’t you think?”

“Hey, whatever gets you through the door. Then you just show ‘em how good you are,” Axel squeezes his hand one more time before he lets go. “I’ll see you around, Roxas.”

“See you,” Roxas echoes quietly, giving him a crooked smile. He hovers there for a moment, hand clenched into a loose fist in front of him. The chandeliers drip light down around them, and soft classical music echoes still from the hall behind them. 

Roxas bites his lip and raises his hand, waving shortly, and turns around without saying anything, because he really can’t figure out what he’s supposed to say.

The party is just as crowded as when Roxas left, and everyone is far too drunk to notice him slipping back inside and slinking along the walls to the kitchen doors, grabbing an empty tray to go collect drinks from the people too drunk to take much note of him and the fact that he’s walking too stiffly, and that he isn’t wearing a normal shirt.

He only finds the business card the next morning, shoved into the back pocket of slacks hastily discarded at the foot of his bed. Blearily, he leans against the bedpost, legs crossed on the cold linoleum, and squints down at the neatly-printed text.

_Axel L. Cooper, J.D._  
Legal Consultant, Cooper, Hammer,  & Smith  
Entrepreneur, Flurry Inc. 

Along with his phone number, email, and the little logo of what Roxas can only assume to be the law firm. When he flips it over, in a spindly scrawl it reads:

_Dinner’s on me for ruining your shirt. Call me, beautiful._

He smiles.


End file.
